Istanbul Affair

by Joanna Mansell

  Before Amy could say anything more, he put down the phone and cut the connection between them.

  She turned to Benedict, her face absolutely colourless. 'They want sixty thousand pounds tomorrow morning. And I haven't got it! If I sold every single share that my uncle left me, then I'd just about be able to raise that amount, but there isn't time, and anyway, the trustees won't let me sell the shares.'

  Benedict frowned. 'I wonder if it's just a coincidence that they're asking for almost exactly the same amount that your uncle left you?'

  'You think that someone found out about it? That they snatched Angeline because it was a way of getting their hands on my uncle's money?' Then Amy shook her head impatiently. 'It isn't important now. It's getting the sixty thousand pounds that's the problem. It's just impossible!'

  'No, it isn't,' Benedict said calmly.

  'What do you suggest we do?' she retorted edgily. 'Print it?'

  'We go to the bank first thing in the morning and draw it out.'

  'That's all very well in theory, but I don't think they're going to let me run up that big an overdraft!'

  'You don't have to. When I first visited the bank here, I made arrangements to draw out a large sum, if necessary. The money's there, waiting for us. All we have to do is collect it.'

  Amy stared at him. 'You'd pay out sixty thousand pounds of your own money to get Angeline back again?'

  His dark gaze locked on to hers. 'Yes—but not because she means anything to me. There was a time when I thought she might, but I was wrong about that. Over the last few days, I've realised just how wrong I was.'

  She flushed a little at the implication behind his words. Then she muttered, 'I suppose I ought to tell you that I won't let you do this, that I won't take your money. But if I do that, then something terrible might happen to Angeline. But I'll pay it back; every single penny. I'll find some way to get round the legal restrictions, and sell those shares my uncle left me.'

  'I don't want you to sell anything or pay me back. It really isn't important if it's your money or mine that pays for Angeline's release. There is something that's important, though, and that's your safety. I'm not going to let you go on that ferry on your own in the morning,' he warned her. 'I intend to stay very close by.'

  'No, you can't do that,' she said at once. 'They'll be watching; they'll see you. Then Angeline will be in real danger.'

  His eyebrows drew together lightly as he considered that problem. Then he gave a small, confident nod. 'Wait here,' he said, heading towards the door. 'I'll be back in about an hour.'

  'Where are you going?' she called after him. He didn't answer, but simply shot a quick grin at her and then left.

  She wandered restlessly round and round the room after he had gone. Everything kept happening far too fast. She felt totally confused now. And she had the feeling that she was going to remain confused for the rest of her life!

  Just over an hour later, there was a light tap on the door. Amy gave a small groan. Who was it? She didn't feel like facing anyone right now.

  She opened the door and flicked a quick glance at the tall man who stood outside. She didn't recognise him, and she scowled. 'You've got the wrong room—' she began. Then she blinked, and looked again. 'Benedict?' she said faintly.

  He was wearing old workmen's clothes, he had had his hair cut in a different style, and he was wearing a false moustache!

  'If you didn't recognise me, then neither should the kidnappers,' he said cheerfully.

  'You look—very Turkish,' Amy said in amazement.

  'That's the general idea. And I've got some tanning lotion to make my skin even darker. The ferry should be fairly crowded in the morning. I'll mix with the other locals on board, and the kidnappers shouldn't notice or recognise me.'

  'This is crazy,' Amy muttered with a rather dazed shake of her head. 'In fact, the whole thing's crazy!'

  Benedict pulled off the false moustache, and suddenly looked much more like himself. 'The last few days have certainly been—different,' he agreed drily.

  She let out a deep sigh. 'If only Angeline weren't in such danger. It casts a great black shadow over everything.'

  'Perhaps you should stop worrying about your cousin quite so much,' suggested Benedict.

  'How can I do that?' she demanded rather indignantly.

  'Just remember that she's the kind of girl who's very good at looking after her own interests.'

  'She's not in any position to look after her own interests,' Amy pointed out a little angrily. 'She's a prisoner!'

  Benedict seemed about to say something, but then stopped himself. He turned away for a couple of moments, then swung back and said in a rather different tone of voice, 'It's getting late; we'd better go down and have dinner. Then we'll try and get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a difficult day.'

  'Every day's been difficult since we came to Istanbul,' she muttered.

  He moved closer. 'And so have the nights,' he said in a more husky tone.

  She was suddenly certain that he was going to kiss her, and she instinctively moved away. She couldn't handle any more right now. Too much had happened, and too quickly. Her nerves were stretched to the point where they could all too easily snap apart.

  A dark expression flickered across Benedict's face. 'I don't like it when you turn away from me,' he warned softly.

  'A few days ago you didn't like it when I was near you!' she reminded him curtly.

  'You're wrong about that. I think that I've always liked having you near me. What rattled me was the way I was beginning to feel about you.'

  'I still don't know how you feel about me,' Amy said tightly.

  'Oh, yes, you do.' His eyes began to glow again. 'I haven't told you, but you do know.'

  He moved closer again and her lower lip suddenly began to tremble. 'We—we were going down to dinner,' she reminded him shakily.

  'To hell with dinner.' His hands reached out for her and found her. 'To hell with everything,' he growled, and his eyes were almost black now as they shone at her hotly. 'I know that I said it was too soon, and it is and I'm sorry; but I don't seem to have any control over this, and I need you now.'

  His mouth closed over hers almost before he had finished speaking, but it didn't matter; there wasn't anything that Amy wanted to say to him. Nothing she could say to him. She had suddenly run completely out of words.

  Clothes were torn away hungrily, hot, damp skin rubbed against hot damp skin, and breathing became difficult, almost impossible. Everything suddenly seemed to be happening at a bewildering speed, and she plunged straight downwards into a dark pool of pleasure, every touch provoking a small gasp, desire dancing along over-sensitive nerve-ends and setting them alight, everything happening so fast and yet with a natural, sensual rhythm. Limbs coiled around limbs and seemed to merge, so that it was almost impossible to tell where female softness ended and male hardness began. She had had no idea that it was possible to want someone quite so much.

  Benedict became caught up in the tangled bedclothes, muttered something under his breath, and shook himself free. For just an instant, he remained very still as he gazed down at her, his eyes burning, his cheekbones flushed with colour.

  'I want you,' he said very clearly. 'No one else. Just you.'

  Amy stared straight back at him, and she had no idea what he could see in her eyes, but a moment later he moved again and there was a sudden darkness, heat and pressure, and a totally new surge of pleasure.

  Everything after that became a jumble of vivid sensations. She tumbled on downwards and held on very tightly to Benedict because he seemed to be the only solid thing in a world that had turned into a turmoil of feelings and frantically moving bodies and small explosions of exquisite delight. Then the final great shudder that ran through him continued right on into the depths of her own body; the depths of her soul. She melted completely into him, shivered again and again with the force of the dark, hot pleasure that swept over her, and finally drifted on to a warm, sunlit
plateau where everything seemed bathed in utter peace.

  It was a very long time before Benedict finally raised his head again and looked down at her.

  'All right?' he said quietly.

  Amy couldn't seem to answer. Instead, she curled a little closer and buried her face against his shoulder.

  He lightly stroked the nape of her neck. 'Sorry that it happened so fast. That it happened at all. I never meant it to. At least, not yet. What the hell are you doing to me?'

  'I don't know,' she managed to say.

  'Yes, you do,' Benedict said more gently. His fingers tangled themselves in the damp, gold strands of her hair and then comfortably remained there.

  Amy closed her eyes, thought that she had never felt quite this happy in her entire life, and then slid into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  CHAPTER NINE

  When Amy woke up in the morning, they were both lying in exactly the same position.

  'Oh,' she said out loud. And then, even more apprehensively, 'Oh.'

  Benedict stirred beside her. 'Oh, indeed,' he agreed in a relaxed voice. 'Things seem to be moving a lot faster than either of us intended. How do you feel about that?'

  'I feel—' she began in a rather wobbly voice.

  Then, quite suddenly, everything seemed to be absolutely all right and she broke into a big smile. 'Right now, I feel very good,' she admitted.

  'And in the future, you're going to feel even better,' he said comfortably.

  Her green eyes opened very wide. 'How do you know that?'

  'Because that's the kind of relationship this is going to be,' Benedict said with utter confidence. 'We both seem to have found something that we've been looking for for a long time. And we're going to hold on to it, and make very sure that it works.'

  'Oh,' said Amy, yet again. Then she suddenly untangled herself from the warmth of his body and sat up very straight. 'Angeline,' she said, in a completely different tone of voice. 'We've forgotten all about Angeline!'

  'I wish we could forget about her,' growled Benedict.

  Her gaze flashed angrily. 'How can you say something like that?'

  'On a morning like this, it's very easy, he replied drily. 'But I suppose we'd better get up and dressed, and deliver the money to the kidnappers.'

  'If it's too much trouble, just stay in bed and I'll do it myself,' Amy said, glaring down at him.

  'Are you angry with me?' he asked, his dark eyes drifting over her lazily. 'Yes, you are. It doesn't matter, though. I don't want you to be sugar and spice and all things nice, all the time. Nice girls are boring girls. I want you to be prickly, stubborn, independent—although you can be sweet to me in bed,' he added with a totally wicked grin.

  'Angeline—and the money,' she reminded him, with some exasperation.

  Benedict hauled himself out of bed. 'Want to share a shower?' he invited, his eyes gleaming. 'No, perhaps not,' he decided with obvious reluctance. 'Or we could spend the rest of the day discovering what fun you can have in a bathroom.'

  Amy somehow dragged her gaze away from his strong, healthy body. His very familiar body, she reminded herself, a great blush surging up into her face.

  Luckily, he had already disappeared into the bathroom and hadn't seen it. With a huge effort, she forced herself to stop thinking about everything that had happened since yesterday. This morning you've got to think about Angeline, she reminded herself. Everything else must wait. Getting Angeline back safely is the only thing of any importance right now.

  While Benedict was in the bathroom, she scuttled back to her own room and hurriedly showered and dressed. Then there was just time for them to grab a quick breakfast. Amy was starving, and she realised that it was a long time since she had last had a meal. They had missed out on dinner last night. Then she remembered all over again why they had missed dinner, and spent a frantic few seconds trying to beat back the hot flush that threatened to engulf her.

  Once they had finished eating, they headed straight for the bank. Benedict was inside for some time, and when he finally emerged, he was carrying a small briefcase.

  'They lent me this to put the money in,' he said with a faint grin. 'They didn't want me to walk round the streets of Istanbul with sixty thousand pounds stuffed into my pockets.'

  Amy stared at the briefcase nervously. Very soon she was going to have to hand it over to the kidnappers, and just the thought of it made her knees shake.

  You're doing this for Angeline, she reminded herself a little crossly, annoyed at her own cowardice. All you've got to do is stay calm, obey their instructions, and everything will go smoothly.

  Benedict handed over the briefcase. Then his face became more serious. 'I'm going back to the hotel now,' he told her. 'You'd better walk down to the dock and book your ticket for the ferry. And don't worry about anything. When you get on that boat, I'll be close behind you.'

  'You're sure the kidnappers won't recognise you?' she said uneasily.

  'You didn't, did you?' he reminded her with a brief smile.

  'No, I didn't,' she admitted. 'All right, I'll see you later. And don't forget the false moustache!'

  Her nervous attempt at humour fell rather flat, and when Benedict began to walk away from her, she felt an almost irresistible urge to run after him.

  Don't be so gutless! she lectured herself angrily. Remember Angeline, waiting for you to hand over the money so that she can be set free.

  With a small toss of her head that sent her gold-blonde hair rippling back over her shoulders, she began to walk determinedly in the direction of the Galata Bridge.

  As always, the area around the Bridge was crammed with people, and it took her a while to push through the crowds, and even longer to find the right ticket window. Amy began to panic. What if she missed the ferry? What if Benedict couldn't get here on time and she had to go on the boat alone? What if—?

  She closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, took a very deep breath, and somehow managed to calm herself. A few minutes later, she was clutching her ticket. And soon after that she was actually on board the ferry.

  The boat was packed with people. Amy glanced around with newly raw nerves. Any one of them could be one of the kidnappers. And where was Benedict? She couldn't see him, and the ferry was almost ready to pull out.

  You're not meant to see him, she reminded herself. Just as the kidnapper isn't meant to know he's on board.

  She was too restless to sit down. Anyway, most of the seats were already full. In the end, she pushed her way over to the rail and stood staring at the unforgettable skyline of Istanbul as the ferry slowly chugged off down the Bosporus.

  She knew that it wouldn't take long to reach the first ferry-stop. She could already see the square bulk of the Dolmabahçe Mosque, topped by its dome and flanked by two tall, thin minarets. What was going to happen? she wondered apprehensively. Was the kidnapper on the boat, or was he going to be waiting for her when she got off the ferry?

  Just at that moment, a man's voice murmured in her ear. 'Don't turn round,' he instructed. 'Keep looking straight ahead, as if you're admiring the view.'

  Amy recognised the voice at once. It was the man who had spoken to her on the phone, telling her what she had to do if she wanted her cousin to be set free.

  Her muscles went quite rigid with tension, and she did exactly as he had ordered, staring in front of her, although without seeing anything.

  'You're going to hand me that briefcase you're carrying,' the man went on in the same even tone, standing directly behind her so that she couldn't see him at all, only hear his voice. 'Then, as soon as the ferry docks, you're going to get off and go back to your hotel. And you're not going to look back, not even once, because it will be a lot safer for both you and your cousin if you don't see my face. Understand?'

  Amy jerkily nodded her head.

  'Fine,' said the man, with some satisfaction. 'Now—give me the briefcase.'

  She held it out behind her, and felt someone take it from her. Then she heard it bei
ng opened as the man quickly checked the contents.

  'That looks as if it's the right amount,' he said, sounding pleased. 'As soon as I'm in a safe place, I'll count it. Provided it's all there, to the last pound, you should soon be able to see your cousin.'

  'When?' said Amy quickly. 'How?'

  'I'll phone you and tell you where you can pick her up. Now, no more talking. The ferry's about to dock. Get off, and remember what I told you about not looking back.'

  Amy moved forward on shaky legs. There was a large crowd of tourists disembarking from the ferry, ready to explore the Mosque and the splendours of the Dolmabahçe Palace, that lay just beyond. She got off with them, but then stayed on the quayside as the tourists walked on towards the Mosque.

  She heard the ferry chugging away again, but she didn't turn round until the sound of its engine had completely faded. Benedict hadn't got off the ferry, so she guessed that he was still on board, shadowing the kidnapper. She just prayed that he would be very careful. Men like that could be totally ruthless.

  There wasn't anything that she could do after that except wait for a ferry that would take her back to the Galata Bridge. Waiting was probably the hardest thing in the world to do, she decided edgily, as she paced up and down the quay. If only Benedict were here with her, instead of on that ferry! She felt as if she really needed him right now.

  A ferry finally came along, and she hurried on board. As soon as it docked, Amy rushed back through the crowded streets to the hotel. Perhaps Benedict would be waiting there for her. Perhaps the phone was already ringing, telling her where she could find Angeline.

  But the room was empty and the phone was silent. Amy flopped down on to the bed and gazed up at the ceiling for a couple of minutes. Then she was on her feet again, unable to keep still, roaming restlessly round and round the room, and occasionally staring out of the window.

  It was nearly three hours before Benedict at last returned, and by then Amy was a total nervous wreck. As soon as he walked in the door, she flung herself at him, as if she were drowning and he was a lifebelt.